The Age of Rejoice

Back in the day, 

when I'd be out with my friends,

loathing in the soil during a cricket match

In a godforsaken plot, 

where we never played in before,

the bat belonged to the badass,

AKA the biggest loser,

for which the rest of us would gang up

to strike his wicket and ego apart!

that being a cakewalk anyway...

Cause the plannings and plottings

were limited to the games we played together

and not with one another...

The days of the yore,

also remind me of pebbles

that we tossed in the water stream,

One by one

manoeuvring them in a way

fit to make them dance on the surface...

frustrated with the failed attempts,

dragging each other in the water

we'd dance ourselves to the tunes of the stream

until the frustration melts away

instead of drowning ourselves to disappointment...

Something as simple as a pat on our back, 

And not the sorry status of bae after a lover's spat

Of calling each other's name from the backyard

Instead of tagging to clitche hashtags on insta

A Jumanji/Shaktiman talk 

Instead of daily status calls

And all the good things that happened

a million years ago

Feels like a square peg in the round hood

Where Adulting is a chaos, 

And sorted was our childhood!